


Boy's Knowledge

by flinchflower



Series: Slash Me Twice [96]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car repairs, Family, Hunters & Hunting, Introspection, M/M, Parental warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flinchflower/pseuds/flinchflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt 96: Sand.   It's time for Dean's pre-hunt introspection - but the Impala is limping along, in need of affairs.  Can he behave himself, or will John have to take him in hand when they arrive at Bobby's?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boy's Knowledge

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Not for profit, simply a writing exercise. Herein lies Dean/Sam slash, in an AU timeline where John did not lose his life. John appears in parental context only.
> 
> Warning: I'm about to entirely re-write the S2 finale...

The only way John can describe Dean’s behaviour at the moment is to say that the boy is well, fluttering. His hands don’t stay still, touching the dashboard, the window crank, the mirror, the radio, his seatbelt… He’s gotten more agitated with every hour that’s passed. They’re taking the back roads to Bobby’s, babying the Impala along. She’s mostly fixed, but there’s a part that’s just come to Bobby’s, and they’ve got that itchy feeling about the intel in Nevada, didn’t want to wait for him to bring it. They’re just heading straight to Bobby, which is en route. They’ll lay over at his place for maybe twenty four while the elder Winchesters install the final parts, change her oil, and make sure she’s good to go, even though they’d rather head straight down..

He catches Sam’s eye in the rearview, and has to try not to bark out a laugh.

“Settle down there, Dean-o. Not gonna do her any permanent damage, on the back roads like this.”

“But Dad, the-“

“Dean, do I, or do I not have twenty years on you, as a mechanic?”

“Sorry sir.”

His youngest son is probably gonna choke to death in the backseat.

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean mutters, seeing Sam’s manful attempt to keep his amusement to himself.

“Dean, didn’t we pull over recently to have a chat about you boys fighting in the car?” John’s voice is still amused, though there’s a little bit of warning creeping in there, if the boy chooses to pick it up.

“Yessir.” Somehow Dean’s red face is also amusing. John chuckles to himself and drives on. He’ll be tired, he’s paying way more attention to the road than he usually does, because if he hits a big pothole, they’re sunk. And if Dean keeps it up, he’ll be worthless. After a while, he reaches over, sets a calming hand on Dean’s knee. 

“Settle down there, son. We’re nearly there.” Twenty miles, though that’s the better part of a half hour, and when they finally ease up Bobby’s rutted driveway, he’s ready to haul the kid over his knee on general principle. Sam’s looking cranky too, and he hopes to god he doesn’t have to tan both of them. Bobby appears on the porch, watching the Impala crawl up the drive, and waves them ‘round back to the garage. Dean appears to relax at the sight of the older man, and John’s relieved.

“Drive it on over the lift, Johnny.” 

He complies, and the boys tumble out of the car, Sam stretching like he hasn’t been able to move in years. Really, John ought to take the back, the extra inches Sam’s got on him and Dean is all leg. Or better yet, put Dean in the back, but John knows better than to do that. Five miles down the road and the kid’s out of his seatbelt, leaning over his father’s shoulder pestering him. Sam now, that boy’ll get into whatever book it is he’s reading, give a man some peace and quiet.

They get the car up on the lift, dig on into the suspension system, and when John pulls out the faulty part, a little pile of sand pours out onto his palm. Dean flushes and looks away.

“Dean Winchester, did you drive this car on the beach?” John’s kind of astounded.

“Uh, yeah.”

He just shakes his head. There’s no use scolding or punishing. In Dean’s case, fouls involving the Impala are their own punishment. Sam snickers, and John takes the opportunity to swat his youngest son, though it doesn’t wipe the grin off his fool face.

“Sam, get on in the house, get some supper started. Won’t take four sets of hands to finish here.”

He can hear his boy chuckling to himself as he leaves. Probably something he’d argued about, the car on the beach. Both of them know better. He’s gonna start counting, pretty quick, and he hopes they’re aware of it. Enough misbehaviour has been let slide, over the last weeks, and it’s stopping, right here at Bobby’s. 

Dean though, once they’re carefully reassembling the undercarriage, everything clean and greased properly, he seems to be settling down to his normal, focused self. Smart assed-remarks and all, John thinks, watching Bobby roll his eyes at another of Dean’s flip remarks.

Dean’s thinking to himself that he’s got a pretty good idea of just how close to a trip over his Dad’s knee he came, and it bears thinking on. He doesn’t normally suffer from pre-hunt jitters, but this… this is the big one right here. He slides over, takes over the hard job that John’s grunting at, wanting to save his dad from the trouble, and distract himself at the same time. There’s always something soothing about the calm, terse directions he gets from John when they’re working on the Impala. He wonders if his Dad knows that. Maybe not, or it would carry over to the hunting more.

Then again, maybe John wants him on edge, hunting, he’s always harping on Sammy to bloody well pay attention, something Dean’s always agreed with, something he’s tried like the blazes to train into the kid while they’ve been hunting apart from John. He’s not sure if Sam just doesn’t pay attention, or if he is and no one can tell, or if Sam just leaves it to him and Dad, for some reason.

Sam’s got a good reason to BE distracted now, keeping watch on all the wards he’s been taught, keeping the demon out of his mind. There’s something bugging Dean about it, though, but he can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s something he thinks about while he’s gripping a cold one, staring at a game on the television, or watching MTV. Dad never gives him enough credit for thinking things through, he feels, though, he remembers with a blush, there’ve been plenty incidents that would indicate otherwise to the man.

His thoughts fix on Sam, and he feels a little desperate. Keeping that kid safe has been his number one mission his whole life, he’s not sure if his dad gets that or not. John’d assigned that one to him at an early age, and Dean’s never been sure if the man understands how serious he’s taken that. Shit, it even got the two of them into BDSM. Which doesn’t seem particularly safe at the outset, but when you consider the discipline aspect, and look at what it’s done for Sammy? Yeah.

And then there’s the months that John was missing. Dean had felt like he was breaking. He supposed that John wouldn’t be around for the entirety of his life, but it just wasn’t time. He offered up a prayer as he tightened the last bolt, half to God and half to the Impala, to keep John safe, because he wasn’t ready to have his family interrupted. He hadn’t had enough time – hell none of them had – they needed to get this damn job done, and then, then they could spend some time as a damn family, feed that lost part of Dean and Sam and John some compassion.

He tossed the wrench easily into the toolbox, and let John help him up.

“Set?”

“Damn straight,” he says to his father, cocky as always, and he feels the warmth of the palm that John claps on his back spread straight through him, knows that any place the fire of his father’s love doesn’t cover, that Sam’s will. And he heads inside to see if he can light a fire of his own in Sam.

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack: Pat Benitar: We Belong


End file.
